Only Lover

by Carole Mortimer

  His eyes darkened. ‘But it wasn’t the first time for me, far from it.’

  Farrah shook her head, her lips a gentle curve. ‘It doesn’t matter, darling. All that matters to me is that I’m the last. I’d much rather be last than first.’

  Joel turned away. ‘But you should have been both! When I think of all the women I’ve—’

  Her fingers laid gently over his mouth cut him off from further conversation. ‘They don’t matter, Joel, except that they’ve helped to make you the person you are today, the person I love, and for that I can only feel gratitude. From them you’ve learnt how to give me unselfish pleasure, how to excite me beyond endurance at times. None of life’s experiences are ever wasted.’

  ‘I feel—I feel so—so— Oh, I don’t know how to describe how I feel! I thought I was a hardened cynic, that nothing could touch me, and yet your lightest touch inflames me and I want you to the point of madness. Like now,’ he groaned, his eyes closing as if to shut out the sight of her. ‘I want to lay you down in the soft warm sand and feel your body against mine in the full beauty of your nakedness, to caress you until you cry out for mercy.’

  ‘Please, Joel. Oh, please!’

  His eyes darkened almost to black and he needed so second bidding as they lowered down on to the sand, their arms and bodies entwined as the last of the warm evening’s light was darkened into night.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Michelle Smart’s next book,

  PROTECTING HIS DEFIANT INNOCENT

  The first book in her Bound to a Billionaire trilogy!

  Continuing her brother’s charitable work, Francesca Pellegrini finds herself under Felipe Lorenzi’s protection. His commands infuriate her, but every look invites her to abandon her innocence…especially when lone wolf Felipe decides to make her his!

  Keep reading to get a glimpse of

  PROTECTING HIS DEFIANT INNOCENT

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘ARE YOU WITH me?’ Francesca Pellegrini tightened her ponytail and glared at the two men sitting opposite her in the small draughty room of the family castle. ‘Will we work together and build the hospital in Pieta’s memory?’

  Daniele threw his hands in the air. ‘Do we have to discuss this now, in the middle of his wake?’

  ‘I am talking about building an enduring legacy for our brother,’ she reminded him crossly.

  Francesca had known Daniele and Matteo would need a little convincing but had complete faith she would get their agreement. Hurricane Igor had decimated the Caribbean island of Caballeros only ten days ago. Twenty thousand people had died and the island had been left with only seven working hospitals for a population of eight million. Pieta, the eldest of the Pellegrini siblings, had seen the devastation on the news and had sprung straight into action in the way she had always so admired.

  Despite running an international law firm, he’d always looked at practical ways to help those suffering at the hands of natural disasters, donating money, hosting fundraisers and getting his hands dirty. He’d been famed and honoured for his philanthropy and she’d been so proud to call herself his sister. She could hardly believe she would never see him again, his life cut short when his helicopter crashed in thick fog.

  ‘I’m not asking you for the moon,’ she continued, ‘I’m asking you to put your skills into building the hospital Pieta was planning for a country that has lost everything and to do it in our brother’s memory.’ Daniele earned a fortune—he’d just taken delivery of a brand new yacht!—but what good did he do with it? Who did her brother serve other than the god of money?

  Francesca knew she was being unfair to the brother who’d always doted on her but what did it matter? Pieta was dead and the only thing she could focus on to endure the pain was continuing with his plan and thus continuing his legacy.

  ‘I’m not saying it’s a bad idea,’ he snapped back. ‘Just that we shouldn’t be rushing into anything. There are security concerns for a start.’

  ‘The country has been flattened. The only concerns are dysentery and cholera.’

  ‘Don’t be so naïve. It’s one of the most dangerous and corrupt countries in the world and you want me to send my men to work there and for Matteo to send his staff there.’

  Matteo Manaserro, their cousin, owned private medical clinics across the western world, performing vanity services for people who refused to age gracefully. He’d also launched a range of youth enhancing products that had made him world famous and as rich as Croesus. Francesca’s mother was an enthusiastic wearer of the entire range and swore she’d only had a couple of nips and tucks since using them. Pieta had often said Matteo could have been one of the greatest and most eminent surgeons in the world but that he’d thrown it away in the pursuit of money, just like Daniele.

  ‘I’m travelling to Caballeros tomorrow. I’ll confirm myself that your security fears are unfounded,’ she informed him without dropping her stare.

  Daniele’s face went the colour of puce. ‘You are not.’

  ‘I am. It’s all arranged. Pieta had already earmarked the site to build the hospital on and put aside money for it and arranged meetings with government officials and…’

  ‘You’re not going. You don’t have the authority for a start.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ She played her trump card. ‘Natasha’s given me written authority to act as her representative as Pieta’s next of kin.’

  Her sister-in-law, who had sat in on the meeting like a mute ghost, looked vaguely startled to hear her name mentioned. Francesca knew she’d taken advantage of her fragile state of mind to get the authority but squashed her conscience. This was Pieta’s legacy and she would do anything to achieve it. She had to.

  Maybe if she finished what Pieta had started her guilt-ravaged dreams would stop.

  I’m so sorry, Pieta. I didn’t mean it. You were the best of us and I loved you. Forgive me, please.

  ‘It’s not safe!’ Daniele slammed his hand so hard on the old oak table that even Matteo flinched.

  But Francesca was beyond listening to reason. She knew it but could do nothing about it, like a child thrown into the deep end of a pool and needing to use its limited strength to swim to the shallows. That’s how she felt; that she needed to reach the shallows to find forgiveness.

  ‘Come with me and keep me safe if you’re that concerned. That hospital will be built with or without you even if I have to build it myself.’

  Daniele looked ready to explode. Maybe he would have done if Matteo hadn’t sighed, raised his hand in the gesture of peace, leaned forward and said, ‘You can count me in. I’ll work with Daniele, if he agrees, on how the basic set-up should work, and when the construction’s complete I’ll personally come in and get it up and running, but only for a month and only because I loved Pieta.’

  ‘Excellent.’ If her cheeks had been able to curve upwards, Francesca would have smiled.

  ‘But I agree with Daniele that security is a major concern. You’re underestimating how dangerous Caballeros can be. I suggest we bring Felipe in.’

  Daniele straightened like a poker. He looked at Matteo and nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I can go with that. He’ll be able to keep Francesca safe when she’s ordering dictators around and protect any staff we hire for it.’

  ‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Francesca interjected. ‘Who is this Felipe?’

  ‘Felipe Lorenzi is a Spanish security expert. Pieta used his services many times.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of him.’ She supposed this wasn’t very surprising. She’d only started her traineeship in Pieta’s law firm a few months before, after graduating. Up until his death she’d never had any direct involvement in his private philanthropy.

  ‘He’s ex-Spanish Special Forces,’ Matteo explained. ‘He set up his own business providing security to businesses and individuals who need to travel to places most right minded people run away from and earned a fortune with it. Pieta thought very highly of him and I imagine he would have b
rought him in to act as security for this project if he’d…’

  If he’d lived.

  ‘Then we bring him in,’ Francesca said after a pause she could see was painful for all of them. She would never admit it but the thought of travelling alone to Caballeros did scare her a little. She’d never travelled alone before. But she would be brave, just as Pieta had always been. ‘But I don’t need a babysitter.’

  ‘You might have to wait a few days for him to organise his men,’ Matteo said, ‘but whoever he sends will be ex-special forces like himself and trained to handle any situation.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ she told them. ‘I’m not being difficult but I have a meeting set up about the sale of the land tomorrow. If I cancel it, I don’t know when they’ll let me rearrange it for. We can’t afford any delays.’

  The whole project rested on her getting the sale of the land agreed. Without it there would be no hospital and no legacy. She had to get that land.

  Daniele’s eyes flashed on her. ‘And you can’t afford to take risks.’

  ‘Pieta did,’ she informed him defiantly. ‘I can decide for myself what risks I’m willing to take and personally I think the risks are exaggerated.’

  ‘You what…?’

  The fight between them was diffused by Matteo raising another hand for peace. ‘Francesca, we both understand how much you want to honour Pieta’s memory—we all want to—but you need to understand we are only concerned for your safety. Felipe has a large network of men working for him, I’m sure it won’t be a problem for him to put something in place for your arrival in Caballeros tomorrow.’

  She caught the warning look he gave Daniele.

  Daniele must have understood whatever the look meant for he nodded shrewdly before turning his attention back to her. ‘You will do whatever they tell you. You are not to place yourself at unnecessary risk, is that understood?’

  ‘Does this mean you’re in?’

  He sighed. ‘Yes. I’m in. Can we return to the rest of our family now? Our mother needs us.’

  Francesca nodded. The cramping in her chest loosened a little. She’d got everything she’d wanted from them and now she wanted to find her mother and hold her tight. ‘To summarise, I’ll take care of the legal side, Daniele takes care of the construction and Matteo takes care of the medical side. What about you, Natasha? Do you want to handle publicity for it?’

  Although only married to Pieta for a year, they’d been engaged for six years and she’d thought her shy sister-in-law should have the chance be involved if she wanted. Publicity was important. Publicity brought donations and awareness.

  Natasha shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I can do that,’ she whispered.

  ‘Then we are done.’ Francesca got to her feet and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Knowing she had Daniele and Matteo onside meant she could now, for one night only, mourn the brother she had loved.

  From tomorrow, the hard work began.

  * * *

  Francesca clumped up the steps of the jet, shades on to keep the glare of the sun from her bleary eyes, to be greeted by the sombre flight crew. Her brother had been a man to inspire devotion and loyalty from his staff, and their obvious grief touched her.

  If her heart didn’t feel so heavy and her brain so tired from all the wine she’d drunk and the two hours of sleep she’d managed to snatch in the freezing room she’d always slept in when they’d stayed at the castle in her childhood, she would be excited to be on Pieta’s personal jet. She’d never been in it before and it saddened her that now she would never travel in it with him.

  The document Natasha had signed gave her carte blanche to do whatever was needed and use whatever resources were necessary from Pieta’s foundation and personal estate for the project. She knew Daniele was angry with her for taking advantage of Natasha’s fragile state and she did feel guilt for it but honestly, if she’d asked Natasha to sign over her house, car and bank account to her, she would have done so with the same glassy-eyed look. Before leaving the wake Francesca had pulled Matteo to one side and asked him to keep an eye on her. Matteo was more than just a cousin to them. He’d lived with them since he was thirteen and, being the same age as Pieta, had been his closest friend. Like the rest of the world, he’d been devoted to him. He would look out for Natasha.

  Francesca was led into the main area of the jet, which was as luxurious as she’d imagined but before she had a chance to take it all in, she was startled to find a man sat on one of the plush leather chairs, a laptop open on the foldaway desk that covered what she could see were enormously long legs.

  She stopped in her tracks.

  Not expecting to be travelling with anyone, she glanced from the stewardess, who showed no surprise at his presence, back to the stranger before her.

  The darkest brown eyes set in the most handsome face she had ever seen stared back.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  It seemed as if an age passed before he spoke. ‘You must be Francesca.’

  The English was spoken with a heavy accent and from firm, generous lips that didn’t even hint at a smile.

  She blinked herself back to the present, realising she’d been staring at him. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Felipe Lorenzi.’

  ‘You’re Felipe?’

  When Matteo and Daniele had spoken of the ex-special forces man she’d formed a mental image of a thuggish squat man with a shaven head and a body crammed with tattoos who wore nothing but grubby khaki trousers and black T-shirts.

  This man was something else entirely. This man had a headful of thick hair that was darker even than his eyes and touched the collar of his crisp white shirt, which he wore with an immaculate and obviously expensive light grey suit with matching waistcoat and thin green checked tie.

  He raised a brow. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’

  Unsettled for reasons she couldn’t begin to decipher, Francesca took the seat opposite him, fighting her eyes’ desire to stare and stare and stare some more.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone.’ She pulled the seatbelt across her lap, doing her utmost to sound together and confident and unaffected by his presence. ‘I was told I’d be meeting one of your men in Caballeros.’

  Daniele and Matteo had made the arrangements, working their phones like a whirlwind throughout the wake to ensure there would be protection for her when she arrived on the island. She’d hadn’t been told to expect company on her flight. If she had she’d have made an effort with her appearance, not thrown on the first clothes that had come to hand. She hadn’t had time for a shower or even to moisturise her face.

  The face that stared back didn’t moisturise, she thought, feeling rather dizzy. This face was intensely, masculinely beautiful. But battle-hardened. This was a face that had seen sights the horrors of which were etched in the lines around his eyes and mouth, in the bump on the bridge of his strong nose and in the white flecks in the thick untamed beard that covered his jaw. This man had an aura of danger about him that sent thrills she couldn’t understand racing through her bloodstream.

  ‘Caballeros isn’t stable. It isn’t wise to go there without protection.’ Especially not for a woman such as this, Felipe thought. He would have risen to shake her hand but her appearance had thrown him.

  Both the Pellegrini brothers were handsome so it was to be expected that their younger sister would be good looking too. He hadn’t expected her to be so truculently sexy, in tight ripped jeans, a billowing white blouse, and glittery thongs on her small, pretty feet.

  ‘I didn’t know it would be you personally,’ she explained warily. ‘I was under the impression you supplied the men to undertake the protection.’

  ‘That is the case but there are times, such as this, when I undertake it myself.’

  In the years he’d provided protection for Pieta on his philanthropic missions he’d got to know the man well. Throughout his career Felipe had dealt with death and loss many times; had almost bec
ome inured to it. The shock of Pieta’s death had hit him harder than he would have expected. He’d been an exceptional man, intelligent and for all his daring, naturally cautious. He’d known how to handle situations.

  Felipe had been propped at a hotel bar in the Middle East drinking the malt whiskey Pieta had liked in his memory when both Daniele and Matteo had called to say Pieta’s little sister was travelling to Caballeros, a country quickly descending into anarchy, first thing in the morning, and that nothing they said would deter or delay her. He’d known immediately that he owed it to the great man to protect his sister himself and had set into action. Within ten hours he was in Pisa, showered, changed and sat on Pieta’s jet. The only thing he hadn’t had time for was a shave.

  Francesca removed her shades and folded them into her handbag. When she looked at him, he experienced another, more powerful jolt.

  Her height was the only thing average about her. Everything else about her was extraordinary, from the sheet of glossy black hair that hung the length of her back to the wide, kissable lips and clear olive skin. The only flaw on her features were her eyes, which were so red raw and puffy it was hard to distinguish the light brown colour of her pupils.

  She’d buried her brother only the day before.

  He recalled Daniele’s warning about her state of mind. This was a woman on the edge.

  ‘I was very sorry to hear about Pieta’s death,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Not sorry enough to attend his funeral,’ she replied archly although there was the slightest tremor in her hoarse voice. Hoarse from crying, he suspected.

  ‘Work comes first. He would have understood.’ On his next visit to Europe he intended to visit Pieta’s grave and lay a wreath for him.

  ‘You were able to juggle your work commitments to be here now.’

  ‘I did,’ he agreed. He’d had to pull a senior member of his staff away from his holiday to take over the job he’d been overseeing to make it to Pisa on time for the flight. ‘Caballeros is a dangerous place.’

  ‘Just so we’re clear, you work for me,’ she said in the impeccable English all the Pellegrinis spoke. ‘My sister-in-law has given me written authority to represent her as Pieta’s next of kin on this project.’